


A Curious Challenge

by omega12596



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Ah! Inspiration, Evolving Tags, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Matchmaker Bela, PITA Hawke, Post DA:2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 20:08:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omega12596/pseuds/omega12596
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Female Mage Hawke never romanced anyone in Kirkwall, but oh how she wanted to. With the Chantry left in ruin, and the mages somewhat free, Hawke and her companions head to Amaranthine, taking Anders home and hoping the Wardens might know how to separate the the man from the spirit. They do, and so Hawke and company try to adjust to their new situation.</p><p>One evening, in The Crown and Lion, Isabela leads a game of 'truth or dare', and Sparrow is challenged to kiss Fenris...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It All Started With A Dare

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Hundred And One Kisses](https://archiveofourown.org/works/961283) by [oratorio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oratorio/pseuds/oratorio). 



> Inspired by chapter 12 of Oratorio's "A Hundred and One Kisses" but takes place post DA 2. I read that little drabble and the story just began to unfold, so thank you, Oratorio for sparking my creativity!

"Kiss the broody elf." Isabela flashed a bawdy grin and Sparrow Hawke (why, oh why Mother allowed Father to choose her name, she always wondered) blanched.

"Fenris? Come on, Isabela, I know you two have been shagging for ages. Why would you want me to kiss him?" She pushed her long, somewhat disheveled midnight hair out of her face one more time. She should have pulled it back earlier, but Sparrow so rarely wore her locks loose and her head needed a break. Maybe she should just cut it off?

"Hey, pay attention." Isabela snapped her fingers, grinning wide enough to flash white teeth. "Where was I? Oh right. The elf and I enjoyed each other, but that was fun, on my part, experimentation and exploration on his. I don't love him, Hawke and he doesn't love me. Besides, that's been over quite a while now. Since before the showdown at the Gallows."

"I see." Hawke couldn't think of anything else to say. She could never do casual like Bela did and honestly, she never thought Fenris would either. Especially since the idea of letting someone close enough to maybe get past one's defenses for 'fun' wasn't something Sparrow considered smart. And that probably explained why she'd had a grand total of two lovers in her entire life.

"Hawke," Bela's voice hedged. "Are you trying to renege on the wager?"

That put her back right up. "Not at all, Rivaini. Just wanted to make sure you weren't trying to stir shit. I like my heart where it is."

Isabela lifted a brow, a strange look in her eyes. "Put up or pay up, sweetie."

For a moment, Sparrow seriously considered handing over the thirty-five sovereigns to the pirate queen. Betting on truth or dare usually left Hawke a hefty bit of coin richer, likely because the others bailed out first or failed to find a truth she wouldn't give, a dare she refused to take. But kissing Fenris... Her stomach twisted in knots. 

She'd been enraptured by the ex-slave for almost seven years now. She'd watched him change from a reclusive hermit into a... well, less reclusive hermit. Sparrow had been by his side when he'd killed his former master's apprentice, and then Danarius himself, had stayed his hand when he might have killed his last blood-family, and in turn he'd fought beside her when she'd chosen to defend the Gallows' mages from a crazed Meredith Stannard.

But she'd never put herself out there or let the elf know she longed for more than a loyal companion, or even a steadfast friend. She wanted him the way Anders longed for freedom, or the magisters for the Golden City, or even the way Isabela pined for a stiff mast-head. In every way that could be interpreted.

Sparrow took great pains not to let him know. Fenris had survived so much suffering, he'd been a thing, a possession, and she was afraid he'd believe she wanted him to be again. Especially since she was a mage. She assumed her magic was a barrier he'd never be able to hurdle and had long ago realized she cared for him too much to cause him even the smallest discomfort.

"You aren't moving, Hawke. I think I'm going to have to call this-"

"No. I'm going. Bitch. If he takes my heart, Varric inherits my coin."

Pushing back from the table and swallowing hard, Sparrow moved toward the small bar where Fenris, Merrill, and the aforementioned dwarf sat. As she made her way through the crowd, three sets of eyes turned to mark her approach. Stealing her nerve, she leaned her palms on the scarred wood between Fenris and Varric before turning to look into eyes the color of pine trees.

"Hawke."

Varric's greeting filtered through her senses, but she didn't acknowledge him. Instead, she took a deep breath and touched her mouth to the elf's. The kiss didn't last long, a few seconds at best, but she almost passed out from the rush of blood, out of her head, then down to her heart, settling somewhere between her waist and her knees. Holding her breath probably didn't help, but she was buzzing, her whole body, as she pressed her mouth to his.

Fenris was surprised, and his lips parted on a soft gust of air, but she didn't push deeper or take anything but the touch of his mouth. Her own lips tingled where they met his, and Sparrow noticed distantly how plump the elf's flesh was, how soft and warm his skin felt. While she still could, she pulled back and turned on heel, face flaming, body quaking, and returned to her seat at Isabela's table.

Aveline made a strangled noise and Sparrow's gaze shot to her best friend's face. "What?" The croak in her voice only made her flush hotter.

"You look like you might pass out, Sparrow."

"So does he." Isabela laughed softly, but there was something, the same strange gleam from earlier still in her coffee-colored eyes, and Hawke knew the dusky-skinned woman wasn't making a joke.

Needing to switch the focus from herself, and the elf, Sparrow leaned toward the ex-Guard Captain of Kirkwall. "Where's Donnic?"

"He's working the late patrol tonight. Wanted to get an idea of what the city guard here needs to tighten up."

When Hawke and her eclectic framily - friends that became family - arrived in Amaranthine three months ago, no one was certain the welcome they'd receive at Vigil's Keep. Oddly enough, or perhaps not considering Sparrow's luck when it came to befriending the right people at the right time, her cousin Gareth Amell had welcomed her, Anders, and the lot with open arms and open affection.

Since then, Aveline had become a Captain of the Silver Order - the Keep's own army, while Donnic found himself quickly promoted to the same position among the city's guard ranks. Sparrow had been unbelievably happy, and relieved, to know that her closest friend, the woman she thought of as sister, was perhaps even more pleased with how things had turned out after they'd fled Kirkwall than Hawke was herself.

Reaching across the tiny table, Sparrow covered Aveline's calloused palm with her own. "Thank you, Aveline, for coming with me."

The red-haired woman gave Hawke one of her patented frowning smiles. "As if there was ever a question. Amell says your brother will be arriving this week."

Sparrow nodded. Though taking the chance on the Joining had saved Carver's life, there was a time when she'd thought her baby brother would have rather died of the blight. Over the last few years, though, they'd finally found a peaceful middle ground and she was excited to see him again, so soon after the fight in Kirkwall.

"I'm looking forward to his visit, though I'd wager Merrill is more so." Hawke grinned and glanced over toward the small, Dalish woman, only to swing her gaze back to Aveline's almost immediately. 

Fenris had been staring straight at her.

Thankfully, Aveline didn't notice, or chose not to comment on, Sparrow's sudden tense posture. "You're probably right. How those two managed to fall in love, I'll never know."

"Love happens when we least expect it. At least, that's what Father used to say. However they found it in each other, I'm delighted they did. And I suppose stranger romances have prospered. They bring each other so much joy."

Aveline made a humming sound and gave a nod. "You've had so little of that, you and Carver, since we fled Ferelden. Maybe now, away from Kirkwall, I'll finally see the ever-present wistful look in your eye fade."

"I'm fine. If I seem a bit blue sometimes, it's nothing to do with you. Any of you."

"I know." The big woman tightened her fingers on Sparrow's and gave her a small smile.

"Ooh, look at what just walked in. I think it's time for me to bow out, ladies. I see an ex-noble I'm just itching to get to know better."

Sparrow looked over Isabela's shoulder and spied Nathaniel Howe walking toward the bar. She chuckled and waved a hand at the other woman. "Good luck. He might be a better rogue than you."

"Perish the thought, lovely." Bela slipped from her seat and away from the table, stealthily approaching the Warden.

"I swear, she should have been a man with how she lets her crotch do all her thinking."

Sparrow paused as she parsed out the pot between she and Aveline. "Well, she wouldn't be Isabela otherwise. And I love her as she is."

"So do I. The whore."

Hawke and Aveline laughed at that and proceeded to drink another round of warm, barely palatable ale before Sparrow yawned. She had almost an hour walk back to the Vigil and if she wanted to make it there before she fell asleep, she needed to leave.

"I think it's time I call it an evening. See you at the Keep?"

"Donnic and I are staying in Amaranthine tonight, but I should be back by afternoon."

"Alright. Good night, Aveline."

"Night, Hawke. Sleep well."

* * *

She was just out the city gate when she heard footfalls coming up behind her with haste. Pausing, Sparrow looked over her shoulder and wished she hadn't. Fenris strode toward her, the pommel of his mighty sword catching the light from dual moons. For a moment, she almost pretended as if she hadn't seen him, but that was too cowardly. And she knew she'd have to pay for Bela's dare, one way or the other.

Instead, she began walking again, not any faster than before, but not slower either, letting the elf approach her in his own time. They walked for at least another twenty minutes, not side by side, but with Fenris less than thirty paces behind, before Sparrow strangled a sigh and stopped.

"There's no reason to hang back, Fenris. In fact, it's a bit odd."

As he came abreast of her, she shot a glance at him from the corner of her eye and noticed him doing the same. What a mess this was and damn Isabela for starting it.

"I, uh, do you always walk alone?"

A curious question, but answering would be better than traveling in awkward silence - or further walking in awkward silence.

"Usually. Why?"

"The road between Amaranthine and the Keep isn't the safest, Hawke."

She coughed to cover the giggle trying to break free. "Well, Fenris, I suppose I've been less safe places and made it through alright alone."

"Perhaps. If I might, I have a question."

"Go ahead. You know I'll answer."

"Did you kiss me to settle a wager?"

Well, what in the Void! Fenris, the one being who seemed happy to skirt any and every potentially personal situation with the kind of dexterity most folks reserved for surviving life and death encounters, wanted to know why she'd kissed him? 

_Andraste preserve me._ Sparrow took a moment to contemplate her answer. She could simply say yes and be done with it, much easier and less chance for angsty brooding later. Or she could tell him yes and no, but that seemed the path to the Black City. _Damned if I do, damned if I don't._

"If you would rather not answer, Hawke, just say so."

Though there was a hint of irritation in his tone, she also heard humor. Words began tumbling from her lips and suddenly she wished there was a spell for real silence and not the one the Templars used.

"It's Bela's fault. She dared me. I... I don't want to offend you with my answer. I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable. But thirty-five sovereigns is a lot and then she called me a coward and I hope I didn't disgust you, and Maker, I'm sorry, Fenris, I know you don't like people in your space-"

"Hawke. It is fine. I was only curious, not truly angry."

"Oh." 

Except 'oh' didn't really cover all the questions stirring in Sparrow's mind thanks to the elf's statement. Why would he be curious? Did he hope it was only to satisfy a bet? Did he think it meant something else? Did Fenris _want_ it to mean something else? Was that why he'd followed her from the inn? He'd never seemed particularly worried for her safety before, at least not any more than a friend might worry for another friend. And considering her friends, worry usually only came into the equation if a mob of unruly sorts were known to be on the loose. Sometimes not even then. 

Damn it all, she wanted to say something, but despite only moments ago running off at the mouth, now no sound at all would issue from her lips.

"Commander Amell said Carver is coming soon."

"Hmm, yes. It'll be good to see him."

"He seems to have come into his own as a Warden."

"He has. Reluctant though he was, Carver believes this is what he should be doing and I'm relieved."

They walked a bit farther in silence before Fenris stopped and turned toward her.

"Did you want to kiss me?"

"Yes." The word rushed from Sparrow before she could hope to stop it. Indeed, before she even realized it was on her tongue or Fenris had finished speaking. Her face flamed crimson, she was sure, though the night offered her some protection in that regard.

His dark brows lifted a bit, eyes widening. "Oh."

Her shoulders slumped a little, but she hid her disappointment pretty well, in her opinion. There was no reason for her to feel downcast at his response. It wasn't as if he'd curled his lip and pulled away from her like she had the blight. Cursing herself, Sparrow turned her gaze to her feet. She hated the fact that whenever she was alone with Fenris, she lacked her normal confidence, seemed to squash the 'fiery spirit' her father loved most about her. But with the elf, she was ever conscious of her mage status and of how much he loathed magic and those who wielded it. Wanting, needing, to turn the subject to something else, she cleared her throat and looked up at the stars before starting forward toward the Vigil once more.

"I've thought about undertaking the Joining myself. I know it's dangerous, but I'm no longer Champion. Now, I'm just another apostate, caught in the middle of a struggle too long in coming, I suppose. If I were a Warden, I could have a purpose again."

"No."

She stumbled a bit. "Excuse me?"

The look on Fenris' face was not one she recognized. She might have thought him angry, but for the lack of heat firing in his dark green gaze. "I said no. It could kill you."

It was Sparrow's turn to lift her brows. "It isn't your decision, Fenris. I'm aware of the consequences; it's all that's held me back. I'm having a hard time with the idea that I might leave Carver alone."

"And what of the rest of us, Hawke? Do you think your merry band of misfits would stay together if you were gone?"

"I never asked any of you to stay with me in the first place, not beyond getting you safely out of the Marches. You are your own men, and women, your choices don't have to be mine."

"What if we wanted them to be? What if I did?"

Fenris advanced on Sparrow and she retreated a step. "Fenris? I'm not sure what to say, or even what you're asking."

Another step forward, another pace backward. Her stomach began to twist, her palms grew damp. Somehow an awkward walk back to the Warden keep had taken a strange bend and Sparrow felt woefully out of sorts.

The elf lifted one hand, as if to reach for her, but dropped it before the motion came to fruition. "Nevermind, Hawke. If you choose to attempt the Joining, then I can only be at your side."

"What are you saying, Fenris? Spit it out, man." She knotted her fingers together, utterly confused, and felt a hint of anger burble inside.

"If you Join, then I shall as well. After all, without you constantly meddling in the affairs of all and sundry, I find I have little to do. Being a Warden would put all my skills to good use and I would be doing a noble thing. It is a worthy choice."

 _Oh, no_. No, she couldn't lose Fenris, not that way. But she couldn't tell the elf that, it would smack too much of ordering him about and Fenris was a free man, after all. Damn him, why would he say such a thing? 

"It's your choice, Fenris."

The elf made a strangled sound. "Would you wish me to Join? Give me the truth, not what you think I want to hear, Hawke."

On another day, under different circumstances, Sparrow would have couched her words. But the events of the evening had piled up and so she gave him an unvarnished response. 

"No. No, I don't want you to join. Fenris, why are you asking me these questions? I don't understand... I'm sorry for kissing you. I said so already."

Her steps quickened as she spotted the torches, brightly lit and shining from the gate of the keep. Her distress mounting, Sparrow actually broke into a run, angry with the elf for saying such things, for... for... she didn't know what in the Void he was thinking, but she'd had enough.

Despite hearing Fenris call out to her, Sparrow dashed through the portcullis and didn't slow until she was safely behind her bedroom door, alone.


	2. Frenemy With Good Advice

“Hawke! Hawke! Sparrow!” Fenris shouted her name, to no avail. “Fasta vass. I should have left well enough alone.”

And normally, he would have, but the moment her lips had come into contact with his, the entire world turned on its side. Then, before he could fully appreciate what was happening she’d deserted him, returning to Isabela and Aveline.

He hadn’t been able to take his gaze from her after that. Possessed by the need to know why, after seven years, Sparrow had finally given him a sign she might be receptive to the advances he desperately wanted to offer, Fenris had sought the pirate and demanded an answer.

“I dared her to, Elf.”

“You dared her to?”

Isabela had sighed at him. “Yes. She probably never would have otherwise.”

“What do you mean? Did she want to kiss me?”

His once-lover had given him a soft look he couldn’t interpret. “You’ll have to ask Hawke that, Fenris.” And with a saucy wink, Isabela had turned from him and set off after Nathaniel once more.

He’d hesitated only a moment before settling his tab and following Hawke from the inn. Walking quickly to catch up, he realized he had no idea how to broach the subject, and by the time Sparrow had called out to him, he’d decided the direct approach was the best.

What he hadn’t expected was her delay in replying, followed by a rapid-fire rush of words explaining, and then suddenly silence again. Falling into the rhythm of walking, he’d turned the topic to her brother, hoping to ease some of her obvious discomfort, until the need to clarify overtook his good sense.

_“Yes.”_

The breathless way she’d told him she wanted to kiss him, even before he’d finished asking made his heart beat a rapid staccato, which had tripled with terror when she’d confessed a desire to become a Warden herself.

_No, absolutely not._ That was his gut response, though he’d shortened it to a simple ‘no’. And then she’d turned to him, at first sure she’d heard wrong, and then irritated by his statement. Fenris honestly hadn’t cared. And yet, when he’d pressed, claimed he would follow wherever she led, Sparrow had been utterly confounded and distressed, turning his ‘no’ back at him.

As he neared the gate, he gave a distracted wave to the guard. Hawke had been upset, truly upset with him, and she seemed completely oblivious to what he’d been trying to say. For that, he supposed he could only blame his shortcomings. Fenris wasn’t good at being, well, approachable. Varric said it was part of his charm, but perhaps… Could Sparrow not realize the depth of his longing? He hadn’t been obvious, at least he tried not to be, but surely she must have known…

And finally, it dawned on Fenris that no, Sparrow Hawke had no idea how he felt about her. He shook his head at the revelation. Why else would he have chosen to share his past? Why put up with the Abomination, or the blood mage, if not out of respect for her and her feelings for them? At least, in the beginning. Now, these many years later, Fenris called both Anders and Merrill friends. They were _his_ mages, and through thick and thin the two, rather three, had never failed to lend him aid, to protect his undefended side, despite his vitriol.

But it seemed Sparrow Hawke didn’t understand he wasn’t the same ex-slave she’d first met. In fact, as he pondered her beneath the new light in his mind, Fenris noted that she seemed muted around him, her usual spunk and wit dimmed. She was careful of her words, her power, her proximity at all times.

Shaking his head, the elf climbed the stairs toward his room. It seemed there were a few things he needed to correct. At the top of the list: making it crystal clear to Sparrow that he wasn’t the man he’d been. He no longer hated magic or mages on principal and had, in fact, found one he wanted to call his own.

* * *

“Anders?”

“Morning, Fenris.”

The elf stepped into the infirmary and closed the door. “Do you have a moment?”

The Warden motioned to a nearby cot. “Of course. More sparring pain?”

Fenris shook his head. “I need some advice.”

This brought Anders’ head up, his gaze catching the elf’s. “Advice? From me?”

Fenris crossed his arms over his chest and sank onto the offered seat. “Yes, mage, from you.”

Anders set aside the bandages he was folding and leaned a hip against the small potion table behind him. “Now you’ve piqued my curiosity. Go ahead.”

“Last night… Sparrow kissed me, on a dare from Isabela.”

“Really? I’d think you’d be delighted. You’ve wanted her for ages.”

The elf sighed heavily. “Be that as it may, I do not think she understands that.”

The mage tilted his head. “Well, you were fucking Bela for quite a while. I did tell you that might not have been the wisest choice.”

Fenris grumbled under his breath. Anders had indeed cautioned him that taking up with the pirate might be a bit of a stumbling block if he really wanted Hawke. But Fenris finally free of Tevinter and his old master, needed to figure out what freedom truly meant and who he was as a result. Choosing to have sex simply for pleasure and nothing more was an integral part of both.

“You do not need to rub it in, mage. If that is all you are interested in-“

“For fuck’s sake, Fenris, sit down.” Anders shifted his feet and looked to be suppressing a grin. “Listen, I know Bela and I’m sure she made it clear to Hawke that you and she are no longer engaging in carnal activities. You aren’t right?”

“We are not. I dissolved our agreement several months before we defended the mages from the Knight Commander.”

“That’s what I thought. Alright, so what kind of advice do you need?”

“I don’t… I can’t… I’ve no idea how to even begin.”

“Well, she certainly has you tied up in knots.”

“Anders.” Fenris frowned and huffed air at his bangs.

“Hey, you have two tells and one of them is you only use contractions when you’re upset or drunk.”

That made the elf chuckle. The mage’s words were true enough and eased some of his tension. “Where do I start?”

“Honestly? Sparrow has been walking on egg shells around you since I’ve known her. You might begin by letting her know you don’t loathe mages and wish them all collared and caged.”

“I thought as much myself. But that won’t necessarily change the platonic nature of our relationship.”

“For that, my dear elf, I’d suggest a thoroughly obvious means.”

“And that would be?”

“Snog her until she can’t stand upright. Nothing tells a woman you want to make her yours quite like kissing her until she has no sense left.”

Fenris snorted. “I’m afraid she might lose consciousness.”

“Look at the size of that ego!” Anders laughed good-naturedly, his words teasing.

The elf shook his head. “She held her breath and looked a moment from fainting when she walked away from me last night.”

“Oh, Maker.” Anders laughed harder, shaking his head. After a few moments of levity, though, the Warden sobered. “There is something… I’m not sure if I should divulge, but I feel it’s important.”

“What?”

“Sparrow isn’t exactly well-versed in the art of intimacy.”

“Is she a-”

Anders cut the elf off. “No. But she hasn’t had a lover since she left Ferelden.”

Fenris’ brows rose on his forehead. “And how do you know that?"

"You aren't the only one who carried a torch for Hawke. Even in that, though, she was careful of my feelings, honest with me when she said she loved me, but never like that. It hurt, I won't lie, but afterward, when she opened up to me, spoke with me about things I'm sure only Aveline was privy to... It was worth it."

Fenris mulled Anders' words. "Still, she’s a beautiful, desirable woman. She could have had her choice.”

A slight flush colored the mage’s cheeks. “Sometimes Fenris... All I'll say is that I’m fairly certain she doubted her choice reciprocated. And Sparrow does not, I repeat, does not do casual. So if you’re serious about this Fenris… Actually, what I mean is you had better be damn sure you’re serious. If you manage to get past the sky-high defenses she has in place, she won’t be nearly as understanding as Bela if you walk out. In fact, I’m confident in saying you would crush part of what makes her so damn irresistible in the first place.”

“What are you getting at, mage?”

“I’m saying if you break her heart, it won’t just be me that will string you up.”

“Then it’s good I am serious. I think, Anders, I think I lo… lo…”

The mage took pity on Fenris. “For Andraste’s sake, don’t tell me. Tell her, when you’re ready. When you can say it without tripping over the words.”

The elf dipped his head and rubbed his fingers against his temples. Anders was right – if he were to care that deeply for someone, they should be the one to hear it first. _She_ should be the one to receive that gift from his mouth. 

Turning his thoughts from Hawke, Fenris lifted his gaze to the other mage, the one he’d long harbored only enmity for when they’d been in Kirkwall. “How are you doing?”

“You mean since Gareth and Velanna separated Justice and I? Or do you just mean in general?”

“Mage.”

Anders chuckled and held up his hands. “Alright. I’m fine. It’s taken the better part of a month, but my magic is back to full strength and my sleep is only disturbed by the occasional darkspawn.”

“That is good to hear. And the taint? Have you gotten any further on your studies?”

“The information we got from the Architect is interesting, but so far, nothing has come of it. Still, just the hope that one day Wardens won’t have to die so young, won’t have to endlessly fight the pull of the Old Gods… it’s enough to keep us going, to keep searching for a solution.”

“Are you home for good then?” Fenris rose from the cot and moved to stand before the mage.

Anders dipped his head a bit. “I don’t know. I won’t be running anymore, though. And this place, these people, I fit here without being forced. But what I did…Gareth says it’s getting worse out there. I’m not sure how long I can stay out of a conflict I brought to a head.”

Fenris reached out and settled a palm on the mage’s shoulder. “Speak with your Commander, Anders. I think he understands better than you think.”

The other man grinned. “And now you’re giving me advice.” The bigger human placed his hand over Fenris’. “Thank you, Elf. I still don’t know how we got here, but I’m grateful for your friendship.”

The ex-slave snorted. “I know exactly how we got here. I almost died from one of Danarius’ blood-magic spells and you spent almost a month bringing me back from the brink.”

"True enough. So, it's been three months since we arrived at the Keep. I know Varric is preparing to return to his merchant throne in Kirkwall, and Isabela has her eye on both Howe and a fine ship. Merrill is thinking about finding Velanna's old clan, maybe joining them. What are _your_ plans?"

"Thanks to the dwarf, I have a a reasonable amount of sovereigns. I suppose I could look for mercenary work, but truth be told, I do not know. I spent so many years evading slavers and my ex-master... It is difficult to imagine my life without that noose threatening to tighten."

"We killed Danarius almost a year ago, Fenris."

The elf nodded. "Indeed. And then we were caught up in the Meredith's attempt to control the entire city, and then..." Fenris trailed off and glanced at Anders.

The mage's face shifted, his regret plain. "Well, then, I suppose there's nothing wrong with a break. Of sorts. I know you've been putting the newer Wardens through their paces."

"I have." The elf smirked. "It is good to keep in form _and_ school those who need it. Darkspawn only take females prisoner and I noticed there are few women Wardens."

Anders shivered with disgust. "Broodmothers. Hideous. You know I wouldn't mind chatting with you more, but I have potions to make and," the tall man looked out the open window, "there's a group due back from the Deep Roads any time. I'm sure my talents will be needed."

Fenris smiled. The Warden motto was taken very seriously, these men and women did not sit on their laurels and wait for the 'spawn to show up, but actively sought them out in their domain. It was no wonder the dwarves held the Grey Order in such high esteem.

"I will leave you to your work then. Thank you, mage."

"Anytime, elf."

As Fenris made his way down to the great hall, he pondered Anders' advice. He wasn't opposed to kissing Sparrow until she lost all sense, but he also didn't want to push too hard. Although the realization that, for now, there was no one chasing him, and there was no battle on the horizon... He smiled, a genuine grin, as an idea took shape in his mind. 

Fenris decided at that moment, as he approached the kitchens in search of sustenance, that with the unencumbered time he finally had, he would spend it on perhaps the most difficult challenge he could imagine. Winning the heart of Sparrow Hawke.


	3. Fantasy Island (or How Sparrow discovered the real answer to 'What I'd take to a deserted island')

"I don't know, Rivaini. I think this may be the dumbest bit of shit you've pulled yet."

Isabela looked at Varric with slightly narrowed eyes. "Varric, as long as you keep your mouth shut they'll never know."

"I wouldn't bet on that, my lovely pirate. Not with Bhelen's gold. If, after all these years, you've failed to note our Sparrow is one of the shrewdest women in all of Thedas... well, I may have to revise your place on the list."

She sighed and took another pull from her mug. The dwarf was right; she didn't need to admit it aloud. Be that as it may, Isabela had every intention of being long out of Amaranthine, (hopefully with one slightly-disgraced ex-noble cum Grey Warden aboard ship) when Hawke discovered the events the pirate set in motion.

"Are you telling me you disagree with my plan?"

Varric sat back in his chair and considered her for several moments. "No. She's so besotted with the elf, I can't fathom how he's never noticed. Likewise for Broody. And after all the shit she went through in Kirkwall, both before she got there and while we were there, I absolutely believe Sparrow is long past due some real happiness."

"But?"

"However," the dwarf gave Rivaini a cheeky grin, "your little hatchling could go awry eight ways from Satinalia. And if he were to abandon her, like he did-"

"That won't happen. For fuck's sake, it only happened the first time anyway. But since Danarius' death, and meeting his sister... Fenris' past, his memories, don't blindside him like that."

"Alright, so likely there won't be any post-coital escapes. Still, if he... Damn, the short of it is Hawke has suffered - maybe more than Anders and the elf, though she'd never agree with that assessment. I don't think any of us would be able to handle it if she were destroyed, not after all the other shit."

"I know." She drained the rest of her ale and slammed the empty mug on the worn table. "This will work, Varric. I feel it in my gut. As long as you play your part and keep our secret, that is."

Varric shook his head, his tiny pony-tail dancing at the back of his head. "I'll do it. Maker help me that no unforseen disasters, like blight sickness or some left-over lackey of Danarius', crop up."

"Oh, no. I've managed to cross all my t's and dot all my i's on that. Both Velanna and Oghren confirmed that little nugget of perfection is free and clear of all nefarious comers. That crazy elf-bitch said it was a place of 'serenity and peace'. Kinda reminded me of Anders, the way she got all intense and wide-eyed."

The dwarf chuckled at that. "Now that's a pairing I don't even want to imagine. Blondie was right, the only elf women he's ever known are bat-shit."

"Kitten's utterly nuts, but she's also absolutely, adorably sweet."

"True enough."

Isabela pushed back from the table and stood. "So, how long?"

"Give me two days. I need to make sure everything is ready."

"Two days then. That'll give me time to prepare the boat and be ready to depart."

"And Howe?"

Isabela laughed throatily. "Mmm, I get shivery just thinking about it. If I can't convince him to come willingly, I'm not above shanghaing the man. In fact, tying him to the bed in the captain's quarters definitely has appeal."

"Don't ever change, Rivaini." The dwarf shook his head as she sauntered toward the door. 

"Perish the thought, Varric."

* * *

"I don't like it, Dwarf."

Varric struggled to maintain his unflappable demeanor. Sometimes, Little Hawke pissed him off worse than his own brother ever had.

"Your like or dislike has no bearing. Unless, of course, you're still the little shit you used to be. Pardon me for thinking you'd finally become a man."

Carver clenched his jaw, but Varric was pleased to note he didn't need Bianca to put a bolt in the human's ass. At least not yet.

"I'll concede you likely know my sister better than I, but abandoning her and the elf-"

"We aren't abandoning them." At Carver's sidelong glare, Varric muttered under his breath and sighed. "Not permenantly, by Andraste. Just for a few days. Long enough for both of them to realize, well, to realize. Period. Oghren, Sigrun, and I will fetch them after a week."

"And if this goes badly?"

"Then they'll be pissed off, but nothing more. Fenris would never raise a hand against Sparrow and vice versa. Now, are you in or not?"

He watched the young warden shift his feet, clearly mulling the proposal. It took an indecent amount of time for the youngest Hawke to give the dwarf his answer.

"I'm in. My desire to see Sister happy, and no longer alone, is overriding my better sense."

"Finally! We'll drop them tomorrow afternoon."

Carver's shoulders drooped. "Fine. What story have you concocted?"

Varric snorted. "No, no, not me. You. You will think up an idea. She won't question you, like she might me."

The warden shook his head. "Fine. But only a week, Dwarf. Not a day longer. Unless... unless she wishes it."

"Agreed. Now, I'll leave you to your duties. Warden."

"Varric."

* * *

"Maker, Carver, it's beautiful!" Sparrow clasped her hands, delight setting off bursts of excitement in her blood. 

Her brother laughed softly. "Velanna said it was a Dalish retreat, of a sort. The Warden's re-discovered it several years ago and Gareth sends us here in small groups several times a year for a break. There's hot springs, a waterfall, plentiful game and flora. And we're close enough to be retrieved quickly if necessary, but far enough away that our duties can be forgotten for a bit. No darkspawn, no raiders, no demons."

"It sounds like the Golden City."

Fenris nodded. "Indeed. But how is it no one with villainous intent has discovered it?"

Sparrow glanced at the elf and Varric, their companions. None of the others had been able to get away, though Carver promised he'd make sure everyone else knew of the little island, should they like to visit another time.

"According to our crazy Dalish, this place is warded, it's hidden from those without pure intent. Personally, I think it's just too far off the beaten path, but the Dalish do have a thing for mystery and romanticism." Carver flushed a bit when Sparrow laughed brightly. "Uh-hem, well, anyway. Sister, why don't you and Fenris take this," he handed the elder Hawke a large picnic basket. To the elf, he passed a large pack and duffel, to which a tent was strapped. "Head up the path, there. Get a fire started while the dwarf and I unpack the rest from the boat."

Sparrow nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Fenris?"

"I enjoy following you."

She struggled to suppress the blush she felt fighting to the surface of her skin. Ever since the night outside The Crown and Lion, she'd felt even more awkward around Fenris than before and that was saying something. Especially at moments like this, where he said something part of her wanted to riposte with double-entendre, while the other chastised he couldn't possibly mean in 'that way'.

Hefting the basket onto her slim hip, Sparrow gave her brother and Varric a wide smile and started down the suggested path. It was a beautiful day, warm but not too warm, and she was thankful, again, that Carver had made the offer to show her this place. A few days of camping on an uninhabited, unknown island sounded simply wonderful.

The last few months in Amaranthine had been exhausting, though Sparrow was certain she hadn't let the drain show. If she had, she imagined Aveline, at least, would have nagged her incessantly until she'd delegated some of the weight she bore. But in Hawke's opinion, the burdens she carried weren't for the others to bear.

She'd spent most of her time in the City, and at the Keep, making damn sure what was left of her little family was safe, protected, and had the money to do as they liked. She'd secured the funds for Bela's ship, got her cousin to put in a good word for Donnic - though she hadn't needed to suggest Aveline get a fair shake with the Silver Order. One look at the powerful Ferelden woman and Gareth had immediately suggested to his First Captain he'd be crazy not to recruit the red-head.

She spent a fair amount of coin getting the location of Velanna's old clan and putting Merrill in contact with their Keeper. She'd donated ten times that to the Warden's, to be sure Carver and Anders had everything they needed to be as protected as they could be, given their positions. And with Gareth's help, she'd made contact with the Dark Wolf, and paid him to ferry all the information Varric needed to keep control of his corner of Thedas while he was away from Kirkwall.

Indeed, Sparrow spent long days and nights struggling to do what she couldn't for her father, and Bethany, and her Mother - protect those she loved. See them happy and healthy and alive. After all, she had more gold than she could spend in four lifetimes, sovereigns that continued to multiply with every day they spent in Varric's care. She also had time, plenty of it, and using it to help her framily, instead of some random stranger, was so much more rewarding. And if, with each person she got squared away, she was just a little more alone, a bit more lonely, well, it was surely worth it.

The only one she hadn't managed to provide for, beyond actual gold, was the elf. Fenris seemed content to train with the warden recruits, and Varric said he had plenty enough money. In fact, when Carver said the ex-slave was joining their improptu getaway, she'd been both anxious and relieved. Perhaps she could find out what Fenris wanted for his future, what he might need to be safe. Before she disappeared. 

Because that was what she intended to do. Anders was wanted throughout the marches and Orlais, but he was a Grey Warden and even the Divine herself wouldn't chance pissing them off. According to Gareth, though, she was equally as marked. It was only because of Zevran and Varric that no one in Amaranthine knew who she was. They'd spread the rumors far and wide that Sparrow Hawke had made for Rivain or Par Vollen, even Tevinter. And they'd changed the description of her being circulated.

But those feints would only last so long. She had to move on, remove herself from the equation if she truly hoped to keep the rest out of danger. Once she had the elf figured out, she'd be gone. It was better that way. With a heavy sigh, she turned her thoughts away from the starkness she'd chosen for her future, and toward the carefully tended path before her.

They didn't have to walk long, perhaps ten minutes, when the clearing Carver spoke of appeared before them. A rough-hewn stone chimney rose over a sandy bed, remnants of past fires blackening the interior. Nearby, two long wooden tables sat parallel to each other and another smile curled her lips. It was absolutely perfect. The lush, green carpet of grasses seemed soft beneath the thin soles of her shoes, the thick woods protecting the space from possible on lookers. And as Sparrow cocked her head to the side, she faintly registered the distant crash of water from a height. 

"How about we set these things on one of those tables and head back to see if Varric and Carver need a hand? I'll start a fire when we return." She motioned to Fenris, who followed with a nod.

"Yes. Why the dwarf felt he needed to bring nearly his entire room's worth of bedding and food, I do not know."

Sparrow giggled. The dwarf had certainly over-packed for the trip, but then, considering how lean so many of their trips to the coast or Sundermount had been, she couldn't really fault him. "I think he said something about never 'roughing it' again."

Fenris gave her a small smile and her heart thumped hard behind her breast bone. "When put like that, I think I am grateful. If I never again have to shiver the night away in a patched tent, I will be content."

"Me too." Arms empty, they retraced their steps toward the small dock where they'd landed.

As Sparrow and Fenris emerged from the woods, both of them seemed to stumble a bit as they took in the scene. Or rather, what and who was missing. Confusion warring with worry, Hawke approached the carefully stacked provision, gaze catching on a heavy piece of parchment tattooed with her name.

Shaking her head, she lifted the paper, fingers smoothing over the wax seal branded with Varric's mark. Cracking it, she unfolded the paper and began to read, half aloud and half silent, completely oblivious to Fenris as the elf neared her side.

_Hawke,_

_Before you start to worry, I'll tell you Carver and I are fine and safely on our way back to Vigil's Keep. There's been no kidnapping, nothing untoward. I swear._

_Thing is, all of us, even your pain in the ass brother, are worried sick about you. Only Rivaini and I managed to figure out why you've been looking worse than Hubert after that high dragon incident. You're trying to make sure we're all taken care of, but you aren't taking care of yourself. And we've had enough._

_So, with a bit of arm twisting, I managed to convince your brother to get you to this little nest of perfection and to leave you there. Fenris wasn't in on it, but in case your considerable shit luck holds true, we all feel better knowing the elf has your back. Although everyone assured me there's no reason to expect bad things to happen, if I've learned anything in my time with you, it's be prepared for anything._

_I'll be back in a week, so enjoy yourself. Relax, take a second and smell the Andraste's grace._

_Your most faithful dwarf,  
Varric_

Sparrow reread the missive several more times as reality slowly seeped in. It took a bit, she just couldn't believe she'd been had so thoroughly outmaneuvered. At another time, there would have been no way she'd have missed her friends machinations, so perhaps the dwarf was right in that - she'd been pushing herself so hard, she was suffering.

Still, an entire week, stuck on an island, alone with Fenris...

"You have got to be shitting me." Sparrow looked out over the water, then up at the sky, and began to laugh until she wasn't sure if humor motivated the reaction or if it was her need never to cry in front of anyone that caused her to dissolve into gasping chortles.


	4. Sparrow Sure Knows How to Keep Things Real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting! I really appreciate all the kind comments and kudos. You guys make it so rewarding to share these stories with you!
> 
> I also apologize for the shortness of the chapter, but there just wasn't a place later to better break it from the next. I can't promise when the next chapter will get posted, but I do promise I'm still working on this. It isn't finished yet, which is kind of different for me since I usually only post finished stuff, so I hope you guys don't mind that I didn't wait this time.

"You have got to be shitting me."

"Hawke?" Fenris wasn't sure what to do as Sparrow began to laugh, then stumbled and sank to her knees, laughing so hard he thought she might pass out from lack of oxygen. "Hawke, what is it? Where are Carver and Varric?"

He hadn't heard the entirety of the letter marked with her name, he'd been too focused on noting the significant lack of their companions. Still, the way Sparrow was acting, Fenris didn't truly think she was delighted.

"Hawke, what is it?"

The woman pressed one palm hard between her breasts, and fought to regain control of herself. It took a few moments, just long enough for agitation to tighten his body, before she managed to respond.

"We've been hoodwinked, Fenris. Rather, I have and you sort of drew the short straw. Unknowingly."

"Hawke, I do not have a clue what you just said." He drew a slow, careful breath in through his nose, employing his iron control to keep his voice steady and modulated.

"Apparently, Varric and my brother, at least, decided I needed to take a time out. So, they've brought me, and you, here. Where we'll be alone for the next week."

"Alone?" The surge of elation shooting through his body nearly staggered Fenris.

"Sorry about that, but like Varric says," she waved the note about, "I do seem to stumble into mess after mess. He felt better leaving you with me. Or they did. Well, fuck."

Fenris carefully, so very carefully, reined in the effusive warmth filling his body, the urge to whoop with joy shoved far, far down. He wasn't sure he could even do ecstatic happiness, best not to test the waters. Instead, he swallowed, cleared his throat, and shifted his stance before he replied.

"I suppose there are worse ways to spend a week."

The look she shot him almost broke his control. He wanted to laugh, loudly, at the totally befuddled wrinkle of her brow, the odd twist to her lips.

"That's about the most optimistic thing I've ever heard leave your mouth, Fenris. Are you ill?"

He shook his head and bit his tongue to stop from smiling. "No. But since there is no way for us to return to the mainland, unless we want to spend the next seven days carving out an impromptu canoe, it seems best to accept what is and move forward."

If Sparrow's eyes could be open any wider, Fenris had no idea how. She looked a bit like an owl, those beautiful lavender irises gawking at him from her position on the ground.

"Who are you and what have you done with my broody elf?" She mumbled the words a bit, but he didn't miss the possesive determiner before his description.

Instead of pointing it out, he merely shrugged. "Would you like to begin ferrying these things to the camp?"

Sparrow shook herself a bit and regained her feet. "I suppose that would be... ah, prudent." He watched her look over the other two packs and a small chest filled with foodstuffs. She glanced at him, then back at the stack, then back at him.

"What?"

Her left hand lifted, the long fingers ploughing through her hair, breaking it free of the bun securing it. "There's only one tent."

He heard her words, but the inky-black curtain of her hair caught all his attention. It was thick, shining, and heavy with waves that, if the tresses were shorter, would certainly be curls. He longed to run his own fingers through it, to see it spread beneath her, to have it curtained around their bodies as she rose above him... He wrenched his gaze away, felt the tips of his ears heat, and fought to get his errant thoughts in line.

Now was not the time for fantasies, not when Hawke was clearly out of sorts, and not with work needing done. Stepping to the packs, Fenris took them, looping them over one shoulder. "Why don't you bring the other bundle of bedding?"

"Alright." Sparrow grabbed the robe-bound package and fell into step beside him as they headed toward their home for the next week.

* * *

"Where is she, whore?"

"Where is who, Lady Man-Hands?"

"So help me," Aveline advanced, threat clear in her eyes, and Isabela put up her hands in surrender.

"She's fine. She's with Fenris. She'll be back in a week."

Several things passed over the Captain's face and flahed through her eyes before all the violence and tension ebbed in a rush from the Ferelden's strong body. "Finally. Thank the Maker."

Isabela lifted a brow. "Finally?"

Aveline gave her an 'are you serious' glare. "Yes, finally. Do you know how long she has been in love, by Andraste, has loved that elf?"

It was Isabela's turn to cycle through faces. "Well I'll be damned. I was beginning to think I was the only one who noticed."

"Why? Because none of the rest of us tried to play match-maker." Aveline chortled. "As if I would _ever_ do that. I could barely get out of my own way when I asked Hawke to do that for Donnie and I."

Isabela laughed. "True enough."

"So where are they?"

"The island the Wardens use for rest and relaxation. It's safe and secluded, but close enough that if we need her, if something happens, we can get to she and Fenris quick."

"Alright. Tell me, do you really think this will work?"

Isabela cocked her hip. "If it doesn't, my next step is sex-pollen, no clothes, and an inescapable room."

* * *

Sparrow wiped sweat from her brow and stood back to survey her work. "At least it's upright now."

Fenris drew close, arms over his chest. "I'll fix it. Are you hungry?"

She snorted and nudged him in the side. "When am I not?" As she paced away to the picnic basket, she couldn't help but smile brightly. No, she didn't really want to be stuck here with Fenris (alright, yes she did, but she wasn't about to really admit it), but it was lovely there. And maybe the time with Fenris would give her a chance to get to know the reserved elf better, maybe even allow her crazy infatuation to finally dissipate.

And Andraste volunteered for the fire.

"You'd think, Hawke, after all these years of camping on the coast or Sundermount, you'd eventually learn how to properly pitch a tent."

Sparrow took a thick ham and cheese sandwich from the basket and turned to rest her backside at the edge of the table. 

And promptly choked.

Fenris had removed his armor, it laid neatly piled just to the side of the tent. The sun warmed his already olive skin, made the lyrium lines tracing his back shimmer. Oh, holy Maker, she felt her entire body flush with heat, her eyes likely bugging from her head. Apparently, her uncharacteristic quiet drew his attention, because she watched him turn, in slow motion, expression curious at first.

But as she whipped her head to the side, she didn't miss the way his face changed, eyes dipping just slightly, one corner of his perfect mouth crooking upward. Scrambling to get her mind righted, she coughed and searched the basket for a flask, glugging down a few quick gulps of... Antivan wine? _Varric._

Hoping to get the situation into a less uncomfortable place, she recalled his statement and replied, "yeah, you'd think. Oh well, no one's perfect."

"You aren't no one."

 _Oh, for the love of..._ Sparrow didn't know what to make of that and Maker knew Fenris already had her unbalanced to start with. Returning her unfinished sandwich to the basket, she brushed her hands against her hips and turned away from the elf.

"I think I'll see if I can find that waterfall Carver talked about." Grabbing a medium sized iron pot, she strode away from the camp in a direction she prayed to the gods would lead to fresh water. Or maybe a giant pit that she could just fall into. Or what the fuck, a couple of darkspawn that wanted to make her their broodmother would be good right then too.

She wasn't sure, but she thought she heard Fenris say something as she left.

"You can't run forever."


End file.
